


We're Only Taking Turns Holding This World

by VolxdoSioda



Series: IgCor Week 2019 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, IgCor Week Day 2: Restraint, Jealousy, M/M, background Nyx/Noctis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 02:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20001109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Cor knows he's the jealous sort, but he also knows he can trust Ignis.Now if maybe those vultures would stop pawing at him, he might be a little more inclined to be patient.





	We're Only Taking Turns Holding This World

_ “You can’t always go rushing into things, Cor.”  _

Bold words spoken by the man who would one day become the King’s Shield. Still, valid words. Words that saved his life when he was younger, and foolish enough to try to take on Gilgamesh. Words that reminded him that for all his strengths and his quickness, he was still human, and could still be felled.

It took him a long time to learn the lesson, but learn it he did, and now he puts it into practice against the Accordo envoy, who will not keep her hands to herself.

If it were Cor she were after, it wouldn’t present a problem; Ignis isn’t the jealous type, but more than that, he trusts Cor. And Cor is honored by that trust, and refuses to break it. Except it isn’t Cor she’s gone after, but Ignis.

And Cor, unlike his partner, has both a temper, and a jealous streak a mile wide. He fights it every damn day, reminds himself he has no need to be jealous, to be insecure. That Ignis chose  _ him,  _ wants him, loves him even if he isn’t always around to say it or show it. That the ring on a chain around their necks is not a mistake, or a drunken fling that he’s going to wake up one morning and regret. 

Which means he needs to be on his best behavior, and  _ not  _ cut the hand currently feeling Ignis’ hand up off. Which means standing here like a stone-faced golem, breathing in and out, counting those breaths, and practicing the restraint he taught himself long ago. Which means trusting that Ignis won’t let her guide him into a linen closet--

No. No, he needs to stop thinking.  _ Breathe old man, breathe. She can’t have him, he’s wearing your ring. Remember that. He chose you. There’s no need for this.  _

Regis and Clarus have both been where he is with Aulea and Acacia. They were at one point the men standing in a room while their chosen lovers were flirted with by women and men of the realm. Helpless to do anything because the situation was too risky, the politicians eager for any excuse to cast Lucis into disfavor. This isn’t quite that level of nonsense, but the Accordo Embassy still needs a valid reason to cleave to Lucis - which means Cor can’t go doing anything  _ foolish.  _

The woman laughs especially loud at something Ignis says, and from here Cor can tell the smile on Ignis’ face, well-practiced though it is, is straining at the edges. Behind his back, his grip on his own wrist tightens to near pain, even as he keeps breathing and keeps his expression perfectly blank. Reminding himself  _ trust Ignis  _ seems to be doing the greatest damage against the temper that wants to rear its head, and so Cor uses it like a whip to drive himself into a corner and keep himself there. He is not going to be an idiot. He is goddamned forty years old. He can control himself.

Yet when the woman leans forward and runs a hand over his collarbone and down Ignis’ chest - Cor will admit, he nearly loses it. Fortunately, Ignis isn’t much better about the movement than he is, and he sharply steps back, amusement all used up. “Madam,” he says polite, if firmly, “I think you’ve had more than enough wine for tonight.” He gestures to a nearby Crownsguard, who nods and steps forward to guide the envoy back to her room for the evening. Less than two seconds later, another vulture steps forward to try  _ her  _ luck, with even fewer results.

And so the evening goes thusly. Six men, fourteen women all try their hand at seducing Ignis Scientia, only to be firmly rebuffed each time. He’s polite, but past a point Cor can tell he’s smiling with teeth barely restrained, ready to move to Cor’s side and be done with the night. Cor’s ready for that too - more than. But the clock only reads eight pm, which means at least four more hours of sweetening people’s tempers so Regis might finally gain enough manpower to back Niflheim off for a few more years. 

Noctis isn’t faring much better in the realm of ‘people who will not leave him alone’, but the difference is that he has a small rotation of Glaives who kidnap him every few hours to give him room to breathe. Cor never suspected Nyx Ulric would be into His Highness, but it’s clear as day the way the two fit together, like a moon and its stars. Nyx is as territorial of his things as Cor is, but the difference is he can walk up and murmur false nothings in Noctis’ ear, and Noctis can pretend it’s serious when in reality he’s escaping out onto one of the lower balconies to breathe.

Cor has no such pleasure, else he would have used it already. The thought of whisking Ignis away to a darkened corner and kissing him until he’s soft beneath Cor’s hands has occurred multiple times through this night, and only gotten worse with every vulture that’s shown up. Still, he’s behaving, at least for now. So long as nobody tries to rip Ignis’ clothes off right here, he won’t have to go and defend his partner’s honor. 

He doesn’t expect one of the Glaives to sidle up to Ignis’ side and murmur in his ear. Ignis’ expression gives nothing away, but he nods and murmurs something back. He smiles at the man in front of him, and Cor hears, “Apologies, but there is a small matter I must see to. A moment, if you would.”

A moment later, Drautos himself appears by Cor’s shoulder. “Here to relieve you, Marshal.”

“You sneaky bastards,” Cor says, barely moving his lips. “It’s not just the Crown Prince you look after then.”

“We look after everyone who needs looking after,” Drautos replies equally low. “That’s what the Glaive are supposed to do. Besides, the Prince is happy when Ignis is happy. If the Prince is happy, the Glaive causes less chaos. All I’m doing is keeping the cycle going. Now go kiss your boy. Eastern wing, third balcony.”

“Gladly.” He takes his time leaving, as if nothing were amiss, but he catches the amused gleam in Regis’ eye as he leaves, and rolls his own in response. 

He finds Ignis on the third balcony, just as promised. Even better, there’s nobody around, but he still tugs Ignis behind the shrubbery, and pulls a nearby curtain as close as he can before kissing him. Ignis opens up to him with barely a hint of pressure, which tells Cor precisely how much he needs this right now. Still, for the sake of any sudden intruders or a need to get back out there, he keeps it chaste.

Once this is over though, it’ll be a whole different story. 

“Six they drive me mad,” Ignis pants when he finally pulls back. Some part of Cor is forever smug about how mussed Ignis looks after kissing him - and always wants to ruin him further. “I swear if I had one more person lay hands on me that was not you, I would have whipped out my knife and--”

Cor kisses across a shoulder, up to his neck, distracting him. “But you didn’t. And I didn’t start chopping hands off. We both kept our cool.”

“So we did.” He leans his head back, letting Cor do what he wants. “Is it midnight yet?”

“Sorry love, not yet.” Four more hours of the hellscape await them. Cor really doesn’t want to let Ignis go, but he knows the Glaive can only buy them so much time. “Four hours, and then I take you home and wreck you on that lovely new couch you bought.”

“You are not doing  _ anything  _ to my couch, Leonis, else you’ll be sleeping on it!”

Cor chuckles, nipping his bottom lip before kissing him again. Ignis feels so good, and he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to let go…

A slight cough on the balcony above them has Cor pulling back with a groan. “Ulric, I am going to unman you one of these days.”

“Hey, if I don’t get to fuck my boy over the side of the balcony, you don’t get to fuck yours,” Ulric calls back cheerfully. “Pants back on gents, your public awaits.”

“We never took the damned pants  _ off,”  _ Ignis mutters, sour. “I’m beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t put Noctis in a chastity device.”

A scandalized gasp above them. “You do that, and I’ll have Crowe go through your entire wardrobe and turn everything  _ pink.” _

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ignis hisses back, but they all know Nyx isn’t bluffing. Crowe is a monster when allowed to make chaos, and her favorite chaos is humiliating people. 

“Try me. Now hurry up and get back in there. I can only make excuses for you guys for so long.”

The footsteps retreat, and Ignis sighs against his collar. “We should go back in there. Much as I don’t want to. Thank you, Cor.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” He places one last chaste kiss on the man’s nose, and then steps back, and starts putting his clothes back in order. Less like he’s been mauled, more like he’s merely had a bad brush-up against someone. “Head on back. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Four hours, love.”

“I know.”

Drautos gives him a  _ look  _ when he gets back in, but obediently trades off again. Cor makes it back to see Ignis re-enter the ballroom, and return to the guests who light up at his arrival. “Apologies, the issue was a little more intense than I first assumed. Where were we?”

In four hours, he gets to take that sharp, beautiful man home to his own bed and destroy him. In four hours, they can put all these people behind them, curl up in bed, and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist. 

All Cor has to do is be patient, and trust Ignis.


End file.
